Pearl Harbor
by Adiemus1
Summary: Okay, I've totally re-vamped this story, including name changes and new characters(I'll have the old summary back up in a few days). What if the Outsiders were born a generation earlier? What if they were there at Pearl Harbor?
1. Land of the Free, Home of the Brave

Author's Note: Okay, Last night I have the craziest dream that I was with the outsiders at Pearl Harbor in the '40s...I have no idea why, but anyway, I thought it would make for a good story, so I'm here to try it out! It will be angsty towards the end because...well, we all know what happens right? Then again, I don't know if I'll be killing anyone off yet...In fact I doubt it.  
  
Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton belongs to the Outsiders, and the movie Pearl Harbor belongs to whoever owns it I suppose.  
  
Pearl Harbor   
  
Part One   
  
There she stood, tall and proud, mighty and strong with the ever-fixed mark of defiance painted never to falter. She was an old specimen, and she created, not born. She possessed steel and pipes, not skin nor hair. No, she was a warplane, brought back to Tulsa, Oklahoma at the property of Darryl Curtis Sr., a kind respectful man with a love for antiques, though he never used that word, for she still had some life in her yet. And this moment in time, two young frivolous boys gave her that life---for she was an immense part of theirs.  
  
It was the year 1932, and almost the end of childhood for the boys who were friends from birth, though more like family. Twelve year-old Steve Randle and Eleven year-old Sodapop Curtis sat in the plane the latter's father had brought back from the Great War, a machine that had saved his life countless times. The warm Oklahoma sun beat down hard and heavy upon the endless rows of crops and the golden wheat fields. Tall sycamores stood fervently at the edge of the wood, and nearby sat a house, a garden, and a large windmill, spreading the sails high into the clear blue sky and bringing them down again, letting them plunge into the earth. And there also stood a barn, made of old wood, peeling red paint on the outside, bare on the inside. A loft was high above, and slovenly covered with hay. Beams of sunlight cracked in through the gaps of the planks, setting a hue- like color about the place.  
  
In the center of the massive barn were two friends, reliving the adventure of make-believe war over and over again, planning struggles but always coming out victorious; the heroes of the beautiful United States of America. The gleeful shouts could be heard from a mile away.  
  
"There they are! Rebel German's at two o'clock! Can you see 'em Soda?"  
  
"I see 'em Steve, and boy are they gonna get it. Jus' wait till I blow there heads off, they aint' even gonna know what's hit them! Bang Bang Bang, they're dead!"  
  
"Woo Hoo, I'm a pilot!" They laughed heartily, until the one in the back noticed something untidily written on the piece of two by four they used for a dashboard. In scraggily letters made of chalk it read "rudar" The dark haired boy picked up a rag and whipped it off. Soda scrunched up his nose, irritated.  
  
"Hey Steve, whatcha doin' that for?"  
  
"You can't spell it like that Soda, look here's how you do it: rudder." The brown-eyed boy nodded his head, satisfied.  
  
"Aw look! More of them coming in the east side!"  
  
"Roger that."  
  
"Bang! I got 'em Stevie."  
  
"Land of the free..."  
  
"...Home of the brave." The two saluted each other respectfully, it being their undying tradition.  
  
~In the House~  
  
Two broad tanned arms slipped the waist of Mrs. Curtis as she giggled like a schoolgirl, as she turned around and gave her husband a peck on the lips.  
  
"Hey soldier."  
  
"Hey." He replied, wrapping his index finger around his wife's golden curls.  
  
"Where'd the boys go?"  
  
"Well, right about now, the two are shooting down those "filthy Germans", quote unquote." Abigail Curtis frowned now, breaking away from her husband.  
  
"You know I don't like them talking like that. The war's over and I don't want any grudges."  
  
"Aw, it's just kid stuff."  
  
"Not for long it won't be, I don't want any of my boys being so disrespectful; I didn't raise them to grow up prejudiced against the world." Darryl Sr. nodded his head, knowing his wife was right...she always was.  
  
"I'll talk to them about tonight, hun." The fact that Steve was considered "her boy" was well known about in Tulsa. He had a rotten life himself, (his mother had died when he was only four years old), and his sorry excuse for a father did nothing but swear and drink all night long with the exception for a visit to a cathouse. Cole Randle was a WWI veteran, a true hero...or at least it started out that way. He'd gotten hurt in some small battle in Germany, which resulted in him leaving an arm behind in the massive city of Berlin. He did just fine for a while, until the death of his beloved wife when he took to drinking. Little Steve took to staying at the farm, and was soon considered part of the family...and they daily reminded him of it.  
  
~Back in the Barn~  
  
"Whew, that was a close one." Steve nodded, and was about to reply when the suddenly he felt a tight jerk on the back of his old worn-out overalls. Instantly, a look of dread creased his face, for he knew who it was even before the person spoke. He writhed around in a jiffy, facing the man who scared him the most in the world, and who he was forced to live with. Cole Randle was a tall specimen of a man, and a dirty one at that. Small drops of dried blood were left over from shaving, which couldn't have been in the past three days, for stubble covered his lower face. His yellow teeth and horrid breath were the result of the countless nights of drinking. His right sleeve was pinned to his brown stained shirt, showing off the horrific image of the missing arm.  
  
"I done told you boy, you ain't gonna make nothin' of yourself if you play around with this stupid boy who can't even read!"  
  
"He ain't stupid daddy!" Steve's lower lip trembled ever so slightly.  
  
Cole growled, "Don't you back talk to me. No supper for you tonight, and you can sleep outside with the dog for all I care. Might as well stay with yer own kind." Hurt, anger and fear shone in the deep dark eyes of the little boy. But the next thing that would appear was shock. With a loud rattle and a crack the figure that was his father now lay in a heap on the cool grass, cradling his stomach. And there above him stood Soda, with the four by four held firmly in his hands.  
  
"Don't you touch him you dirty German!" And suddenly, something some touched Cole Randle that moment, something deep inside of him. His eyes softened and he shrank back, projecting almost a childlike innocence in him. His arm rose up to reach the empty sleeve of his right, and paused, staring at it with a blank look on his face. His voice was not the raspy one they'd heard just minuets before. It was quiet, timid, and yet so powerful. He sounded like he did when he was a soldier.  
  
"What'd you call me boy? I FOUGHT the Germans. I pray no one ever has to see what I saw." He turned his head, looking at his son, blinking over and over again. "Stevie...I...I didn't mean nothing, I just..."  
  
"It's o.k. daddy." And with that he reached up to take his father's hand, entwining it in his small one. As the two walked through the cornfields that evening a boy glanced over his shoulder to mouth two silent meaningful words to his best friend.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
End One   
  
Please Review   
  
Dedicated to the brave men and women who served our country sixty years ago and to those still serve it today. 


	2. Screaming vs the alarm clock

~To My Reviewers~ Burnin church gal: My you wrote a lot! Thanks so much for all the reviews, and tell Johnny never to touch the tranquilizer gun again, your much more interesting without it!  
  
Johnny: Reincarnated squirrel you say? You didn't perchance bight burnin church gal and give her rabies did you? (Heh, j/k!).  
  
Vicki: Thank you! I don't know if the outcome will be like the movie, I don't really enjoy killing people off...that's just me though.  
  
Blatty: Thanks! Well, I would let you have him, but he's mine!  
  
Roya: Thank you very much! Uh, yeah there probably will be love interests, but not for everyone.  
  
Mimi: I think your name is so adorable. Thanks for the kind review! I love planes also, I live about ten minutes away from an old airbase, (which just closed down a few years ago), but I always used to go to sleep at night hearing the planes, so now I find it a very comforting sound.  
  
Rockabye: Hola chica! Haha, you'd tie me up without food? Now that's just mean! By the way..earsex with Dallas? Hmm.......  
  
Author's Note: I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid Dally's much too busy doing my laundry to be in this fic. Johnny will, but that's only because he's allergic to my brand of fabric-softener. Also, Pony is 18, Johnny, Steve and Soda are 20(I'm rounding up), Two-Bit is 21, and Darry is 23...I think that's right.  
  
Part Two   
  
The cool breeze gently tousled the hair of a now full-grown Sodapop Curtis. Light spread through the blinds of the window above his head, creating the wheat-colored hair to look as if a halo was placed upon his crown.  
  
'Aw, it'll be a shame to wake him,' thought Steve, who at this moment was standing over his best friend, pondering his next move. Enough pondering.  
  
"Lt. Curtis, report on the air field this instant, CODE RED, CODE RED!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
"Ahh!" The young man who was so previously sound asleep awoke with the shrieking that mirrored that of a little girl. "Yessir, Lt. Curtis reporting for duty sir!" He instinctively saluted to the thin air in front of himself, breathing hard. Realizing the situation, his face turned as red as a cherry, and his nostrils flared. His usually jolly voice now held a certain air to it.....along the lines of groggy, frustrated, and pure contempt of his best friend. Go figure.  
  
"Steve..."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Run!!!" With the warning proclaimed the two boyhood friends took off in a dead run, one scampering through the room dodging bunks to and fro with the other following right behind. The chase ceased, however as both quickly lost breath. The end resulted in a headlock, which Steve eagerly welcomed so long as he didn't have to run anymore.  
  
"Why the hell do you do that?!?"  
  
"Well in my opinion your screaming is just a little more entertaining than an alarm clock."  
  
"Glad I have a purpose in life..." he muttered.  
  
"Amen."  
  
"Shuddap."  
  
"Yes sir, captain, sir!" A fake salute was tossed into the air at this point, but was quickly released as a third voice entered the conversation.  
  
"I think you're addressing the wrong officer, boy." Steve paled and bit his lip, causing the pink to turn white.  
  
"Sorry sir, just having a bit of fun. Won't happen again, I promise, sir." He said as he addressed the commanding officer in front of him.  
  
"I should hope not. Alright then, stop the twitching dammit, you're a pilot and a lieutenant, not some scrawny seaman."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
"Oh, and Sodapop....."  
  
"Yes sir?"  
  
"Randle's right. You're screaming is much more entertaining than an alarm clock. See you in the air boys."  
  
It was now Soda's turn to pale, although he turned bright red once a few moments passed themselves by, and the only sounds present were that of Steve's snickering. Soda smiled and shook his head, patting his "brother" on the back, and walking back into his barracks.  
  
End Chapter  
  
A/N: Yikes, I know this is short, but the next one will be longer, I promise!!!!!!!!! 


	3. Dyslexic Flyboy

Amber Billows sat in the large mahogany seat of the New York Express, which, as many know, is one of the more beauteous trains of 1941. A lush green carpet was thrown upon the ground, creating a little shuffling noise as soon as the passengers stepped on it, and shaded lamps adorned the walls. The booths were comfortable enough, but she and her friends preferred to sit were the scenery could be viewed. Besides, with rickety progress of the train, and the bar too close to the cream colored booths, it was all the more safer for their clothes. Of course the real beauty of the train consisted of one group of ten young women, Army nurses, sitting in the corner. Now, none of these ladies were capable of outshining Amber, but they were pretty and ripe enough....perhaps a bit too ripe for some. They had to look good tonight, for tonight was the night when they'd see the boys, and Amber in particular was anxious to find her man.  
  
She quite unwillingly snapped out of her trance as she felt something tug at the sleeve of her arm. She turned her swan-like neck towards a sultry, busty brunette, otherwise known as Martha.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Laughter erupted in the little section of girls, sounding somewhat similar to the cackling of a witch.  
  
"Well, well," Martha smiled mischievously and continued, "Seems like our girl was daydreaming again! Watcha thinking about darlin?"  
  
Amber tilted her head downcast slightly, and with a sheepish grin on her face, muttered the words that instantly made the fellow companions chorus a plethora of "Ohhhhh" and "Awwww"  
  
"Soda."  
  
That was all it took to get them started, and the cooing ensued. Everyone in the group knew all about Soda, though only two had seen him. Angelina, (or Angel), the blonde bombshell with blue eyes, threw up her arms and swooned onto her friends.  
  
"Ah, true love!"  
  
Heaven, a petite girl with soft eyes and light blonde hair, (and the youngest of the girls), inquired after a topic all single ladies wished to hear:  
  
"How'd ya meet him and where can I get one?!"  
  
Laughter rung out once more, this time joined by a fit snorts as well. Amber pondered the question, and began to speak.  
  
"Well, it was four months ago, at the drafting...............  
  
~~~Flashback~~~~  
  
Sodapop Curtis wrung his finger through each other time and time again. Tiny bead of sweat trickled down his face, and his eyes had a restless panicky look to them. He was dreading today. In no longer than a few hours would his fate be sealed, and, knowing the odds, this did little comfort for his stomach. He'd already vomited in earlier this morning, but held down his breakfast steadily. A toned arm lifted to his forehead and brushed away the sweat. He suddenly felt a reassuring pat on the back from Steve and he turned around to look his best friend in the eye. Soda's amber ones met with Steve's dark ones.  
  
"Don't worry Soda, you'll make it. I know you will."  
  
Soda nodded and gave his childhood friend a thankful smile. As the years surpassed the two, they had gone from best friends to brothers, or even closer, if that was at all possible. Three years after the incident with the four by four, Cole Randal had suddenly died, leaving all he had (which wasn't much) to young Steve. Of course, he had moved into the Curtis' and, in doing so, gained all that he ever wanted: A family. Mr. And Mrs. Curtis watched over like they did each of their sons, and concerning Pony and Darry, well, Steve simply regarded them as his brothers as well......that included fighting like one, though it was very rare.  
  
It had been ten years since the incident, and seven since Cole had died. The boys, now young men, were about to embark on their lives. They were certified air pilots---and lieutenants. They had passed all the necessary requirements, tests and whatnot, though Soda didn't fair too well, he did in fact succeed. But now, now the final exam that most were relieved about......except for one man.....the physicals. Oh, he dreaded it. Yes, it was true that he was fit, not too mention good looking as well, but it was also true that he had problems reading, and the eye chart against the wall terrified him. What if he didn't pass? What if he got his wings taken away from him? He shuddered at thought, what else would he do? There wasn't much else he was good at...he needed to pass.  
  
The sudden cry from a few tables down brought everyone to their senses. A poor young man, no more than 18, was currently pleading with a doctor, begging him not to take his wings. The doctor ignored this, and in threatening red ink, he placed a bold stamp on the boy's file.  
  
"REJECTED"  
  
The wails grew louder as he left, and all the other men busied themselves with something to concentrate on, to keep their minds off the horror. Every man in the room pretended they couldn't hear it. Steve looked towards Soda, knowing the outburst was sure to affect him. But, they had a plan. A clear voice rang throughout the air.  
  
"Next in line please."  
  
With a weary glance at his friend, Soda turned his and focused on the chart in front of him. The intrepid black letters stared back at him. They were daring him, laughing at him, knowing he would not be victorious. It was taped to fiercely to the white wall in back of the nurse, and he couldn't help but suppose that she memorized it all. Great. Steve couldn't help but fight back a chuckle when he realized his friend failed to notice the gorgeous young woman right before his eyes. He finally did though, as soon as she spoke.  
  
"Let's see your file."  
  
He passed the teal folder into her hands, finally noticing her. Her golden hair looked so much like the wheat fields back home. Her lips were painted red, contrasting wonderfully with her powdered skin. Mystifying blue eyes were within the boundary of long black lashes. (A/n: Yes, I KNOW it sounds stupid, but you have to remember that Soda is in awe of her and praise her 'till doomsday.)  
  
Amber could feel his eyes on her, but kept focused on the small stack in her hands. She scanned the papers for more information. Curtis, Sodapop, P......quite an interesting name.  
  
"My dad was somewhat eccentric."  
  
She flung her head up while blinking...was he talking to her? Understanding that she had spoken aloud, she felt her cheeks flush, a bit embarrassed.  
  
"It's nice. Original."  
  
He simply gave a shy, almost forced smile. She peered down once more at his folder...his English and History grades were rather poor, but she noted his math and science scores were both in the 90's. Extraordinary; First ranking Lt. in his field. Well, his flying skills were certainly not a problem. Her gaze traveled down the page to where each man was required to give a reason for his chosen path. In squiggly untidy letters was where his heart was written down upon paper.  
  
"I love to fli. In the aire I smell the breth of God"  
  
It amazed her how it could be so sweet, so deep and....misspelled so easily. She frowned, and spoke.  
  
"Now then, please read each letter aloud from right to left, starting at the top."  
  
He grimaced, and slowly his mouth opened.  
  
"BTSKMLORT," he said, much too quickly. "Eyes like an eagle ma'am."  
  
Amber looked him over closely, knowing he had to have been cheating. He appeared so nervous even she was starting to feel uncomfortable.  
  
"Good," she started slowly, "Now every other word on the bottom line...and read it backwards."  
  
Soda instantly paled.  
  
"Q.....w, e, c.....no, wait c, e."  
  
Amber looked up to see the man behind Soda whisper the letters to his friend. Wha....suddenly it hit her. He wasn't stupid, just dyslexic. She'd heard of it before. That was what happened when certain people who cannot read standard print because of a visual, perceptual or other physical disability. She sighed, and told Soda to stop for a minuet. What was she supposed to do? Should she fail him? After all he didn't meet the requirements for this test. With a heavy heart she reached for the red stamp.  
  
"Miss, wait."  
  
A hand caught her arm and held on to it gingerly. She gazed into his sad pleading eyes.  
  
"Listen miss, maybe I didn't do to well in school and junk.......but flying is my life. It's my heart and soul, my reason for living. And it doesn't matter about my reading abilities. You don't use manuals to fly."  
  
He took two papers and spoke again, holding up a different piece with each one he talked about.  
  
"This one says I'm the best pilot in this room, the other says different......which one are you going to believe?"  
  
Moments passed with Amber staring at him, moved by his little speech. In a small voice, perhaps even a whisper, he said:  
  
"Please don't take my wings."  
  
He released her hand, letting her make the decision that would change his life forever. She reached for the two stamps once more..........this time choosing the green." The word ACCEPTED landed hard on his folder and he looked at her with such a look of emotion that she couldn't take it anymore.  
  
"Next please."  
  
He stood back, taking his folder and the most earnest voice in his life, said 'Thank you'. She nodded her head, praying to God that she didn't make the wrong decision. She picked up the next folder and skimmed for the name. Randle, Steven A.  
  
"All right, Lt. Randle, how about you?"  
  
The young man smiled, his dark eyes laughing merrily.  
  
"How about me?" he asked suavely.  
  
Amber smirked and shook head.  
  
"Just read the chart, flyboy."  
  
A/N: Ha! How's that for a longer chapter! I realize that we're still in a flashback, but I didn't want to make it any longer, so it'll be in the next one. 5 more reviews please, and I'll go as fast as I can! 


	4. Give Him What He Wants

Amber, now finished with her shift, handed Steve his folder, fresh with the scent of the green stamp. As she watched him turn away, she had no doubt that the stunt he and Soda tried to pull had been done in the past. She smiled and gathered up her purse, when a small hand landed square on her shoulder. She whirled around to see Rebecca, an anxious expression plastered on her face.  
  
"Hey Amber, look I hate to do this to you, but could you cover my next shift for me? Dave's leaving in an hour, and I promised I'd see him off."  
  
The pleading light in her eyes made it impossible for Amber to say no. After all, suppose there was a war coming their way? Britain was already stuck in the middle of it, making bombs while we were busy making refrigerators. No, she'd stay here, and wait for Becca to get back, saying a silent prayer for Dave, just in case.  
  
"Sure, take your time."  
  
"Thanks so much! I owe you big time."  
  
"Wait, what's your station?"  
  
"Shots."  
  
Amber threw her head back in laughter, and blushed as a few people around her began to stare. It certainly was her day, wasn't it? When saying shots, of course, dear Becca had meant the one where the boys was inclined to drop his skivvies, and promptly receive a shot on his ass. Oh, she was going to have fun. Within minutes she had long line of men to prick and she was eagerly looking forward to it, when, to her utter surprise, a familiar face popped into view.  
  
"Lt. Curtis!"  
  
"Lt. Billows."  
  
He tried to maintain a straight face, but, not being fond of using formalities, his solemn expression soon turned into a toothy grin. Lorelei had no choice but to smile back......she couldn't help it.  
  
"I'm glad our still here, I've been meaning to talk to you." He said earnestly.  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Yeah....well first I wanted to thank you for passing me, I don't know why you did it, but I'm grateful all the same. And........I was also wondering if you'd...well...."  
  
Her mind still halfway on the task at hand, she took his arm and pulled him around the table, and placed a clean needle in between her nimble fingers. Soda, meanwhile, wasn't focused at all, and promptly pulled down his pants a bit in the back. Unbeknownst to Amber, and forgotten by Soda was the fact that he had already had the shot once today. He kept talking.  
  
"If you'd like to have dinner with me tonig----------OUCH!"  
  
She'd stuck in the needle and smiled wryly, all the while thinking how cute his butt was.  
  
"Oh, I hope that didn't go to deep." She said, faking an innocent smile.  
  
"Ooh, I think you got the bone there!"  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Yeah....well anyway, what I was going to say is that I really lick you....like you! I really *like* you."  
  
She bit her tongue to keep from laughing. Soda's face was now scarlet and he began to fiddle with his fingers.  
  
"So....*cough*....er, whadda say?"  
  
"Oh, I don't think so."  
  
He frowned, still not facing her. Never in his entire life had a girl turned him down, and the feeling of rejection was a bitter one. Of course the feeling of her injecting him the needle for a second was not comforting either, though he was standing up at this point. He tried again.  
  
"Look miss, I don't mean any disrespect or anything, I'd just like to thank you for passing me, no pressure at all."  
  
"I dunno........."  
  
She stopped at that moment, for he instantly started to look dizzy and sway to and fro, and his eyes clouded over.  
  
"Soda?"  
  
"Mmmm?" His voice sounded groggy.  
  
She asked him the question slowly but panicky. "How many times have you had this shot?"  
  
"Uh......three?"  
  
Terror spread across her face, and in a flash he was falling over, hitting his nose on the silver tray with a crash and landing on the floor with a thud.  
  
"Soda!"  
  
He simply groaned and blacked out. Martha and Daisy heard her cries and ran from their stations. While one looked horrified, the other burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.  
  
"My God, what did you do to him!?!"  
  
"Eh...you don't wanna know."  
  
~~~~~~Later That Night~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Amber, uniform still on, and navy blue cape around her shoulders, firmly shut the door behind her, Martha to her left and Daisy to her right. The sky, approximately the color of the girls' capes, surrounded everything, lightly sprinkled with stars here and there. The only thing that was distracting was the warm yellow lamppost down the steps and the sidewalk, which held the shadows of two grown men under it. Suddenly, one turned around and met Amber's gaze so steady she could almost see the amber eyes through the dark.  
  
"Hey, wait up!"  
  
He took off away from his friend, which Amber recognized as Lt. Steve Randal. He stayed for a moment, his face solemn, like a protective older brother...or even a father. She stood still and told her friends that she'd catch up with them later. Angel smiled slyly.  
  
"Take your time," she said.  
  
Amber blushed and turned back to Soda, who was just three steps down from her, and she met him the following way.  
  
"So, how's your nose?"  
  
"Uh...well, it's broken, but apart from that its just.....dandy."  
  
He mentally scolded himself. 'Dandy'? What the hell did he say THAT for? She simply giggled.  
  
"Yes, I figured as much."  
  
"Yeah, well.....Oh, I got this...not busy are you?"  
  
He produced a bottle of wine from behind his back, and she noticed for the first time he was in full uniform. Gosh, he looked handsome. Lore sat down on the steps, glancing over at the lamppost to see that Steve had gone. Soda took a seat next to her, trying to pry the cork off. When it finally came loose, it popped up so suddenly that he didn't even know what had hit him...literally.  
  
"Ooh!"  
  
Lore gasped, and fought back at laugh. Her brave soldier was nose cradling his bleeding nose, thanks to a bottle of red wine. His eyes watered up, and she knew it must have been stinging.  
  
"Oh, Soda! Here, lay down."  
  
She cautiously placed his head down in her lap, while she pulled out a handkerchief. Never before had she needed the use of one, until the present moment, and was grateful her mother had taught her the importance of being ladylike. After all, every respectable woman in this day and age carried one. She delicately lifted his hands from his nose, and tenderly put the kerchief to the bloody mess. Soda, not being able to resist, took advantage of the opportunity.  
  
"You're so pretty it hurts, you know."  
  
"It's you nose that hurts, flyboy."  
  
"I think it's my heart." He said gently.  
  
She looked straight into his eyes, and felt something she'd never felt before, never in her entire life. Her heartbeat raced, Goosebumps covered her body, leaving a tingly sensation, and she literally felt her spirit soar......and he hadn't even kissed her yet.  
  
But now he did.  
  
Placing his hands on the back of her neck, he brought her closer to him, inch by inch, until........his lips locked onto hers, and he felt totally bliss.  
  
~~~~~~End Flashback (Finally!)~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Aw gee, Amber, that's so romantic!" Heaven declared, a dreamy look on her face.  
  
"Sounds like you got the best boy in the force."  
  
"Where can I get one?"  
  
Laughter erupted merrily, and Amber couldn't help feel elated. When the coos finally settle down, she gave a triumphant smile simply out of pleasure. Dolores, the most sensible of the group, checked her watch, and announced that they'd be arriving in New York, New York soon. Angel, the mother hen, took the opportunity to inform the girls of what was sure to ensue over the next few hours. It went something like this:  
  
"All right girls, you all listen good and clear. In less than 0 hundred hours, we'll all be in the company of flyboys......"  
  
A few giggles interrupted here.  
  
".....but I want you to know that you have to be firm. They are, after all, the cockiest bunch of guys you'll ever come in contact with. First they'll get you alone from the group, and they'll look at you with those great big cow eyes of theirs and maybe let their eyes water a bit. They'll take your hands in theirs and stare straight atcha. This is what they'll say:  
  
'Listen baby, they're training me for war. Gonna turn me into a big bad killin' machine, and, well let's face it...baby, I might not come back. So, we gotta make this night last, gotta make it special........as special as you are.'  
  
And you'll probably get a letter in a few weeks, looking as big as whales, and find out he's finally deeply in love with some foreign girl."  
  
Martha raised and eyebrow, and pursed her lips, before saying:  
  
"If any one of those hair-brained flyboys tries to sell that crap to me..."  
  
They all paused in anticipation.  
  
"I'm gonna give him anything he wants!!!"  
  
Laughter took over once more, and chimed in perfectly with the loud clanking of the wheels on the train. 


	5. You Stupid Bastard

Meanwhile.............  
  
(In the Planes)  
  
Soda ran a hand through his light brown hair and wiped the sweat off his brow. He'd never felt anything quite uplifting like the sensation of flying through the air-except for maybe kissing Amber. All right, so he'd have to remember to separate the land from the sky, and he'd be fine. A slow smile flickered across his face and he voiced the wonderful thoughts aloud:  
  
"Then again I could always bring her up here and make out---two sensations for the price of one."  
  
Steve's voice broke through the intercom the two shared: "How, may I ask, do you plan on steering and swapping spit at the same time?"  
  
Soda coughed, clearly embarrassed but his friend went on, "Don't get me wrong buddy, I'd be happy to fly you guys so long as you pay me---maybe it get it on and let me watch too. After all I---"  
  
"*SHUT UP* Steve!"  
  
"Well aren't we a little protective of our girl?"  
  
"MY girl," Soda mumbled. "And you'd be pissed too, if you even had a relationship that lasted as long as three days."  
  
Silenced pierced the cockpit and Soda immediately felt his stomach do summersaults.  
  
"Jesus man, I.....I didn't mean that, really."  
  
"No that's alright..." he murmured quickly.  
  
"No it isn't. I just went from zero to jackass in 3.2 seconds. I didn't mean anything by it."*  
  
"Yeah I know---it's not like I don't want a relationship or anything..."  
  
Soda's stomach was still tumbling on the inside. How could he be so insensitive? Growing up Steve had a hard life with no support or love from his biological family-it wasn't until the Curtis's took him in that he'd felt comfortable with emotions. Soda knew it didn't matter what Steve said about relationships; he needed one. A real one: honest, open, and trusting.  
  
"Just forget 'bout it man."  
  
"....Mkay."  
  
"Hey how about a game of chicken?"  
  
Soda smiled, wryly. "We don't have enough time."  
  
"And you're gonna let that stop you?"  
  
"You calling me a coward?"  
  
"Bok bok bok!"(Lol, I know that must sound horrible, but imagine a chicken making that noise!)  
  
"Bring it on Randal!"  
  
"Roger that."  
  
And so they went off each in a different direction, soaring high above the clouds and the other planes that there going down for the landing. Sure, they'd probably get into trouble (chicken wasn't allowed and they were supposed to be heading back down already). Of course sometimes you just gotta ignore the rules---they are meant for breaking after all.  
  
The intercom blasted out loud and clear as the harsh voice of Major Stebbins made its way into the cockpit.  
  
"Lt. Randal, Lt. Curtis get yer sorry asses down here this instant."  
  
The snickering of the rest of the band of pilots that had now landed grew increasingly louder. Steve smiled and switched off the sound with a flick of his wrist, although he turned it on a second later when he realized he didn't know what direction hid buddy was flying in.  
  
"Sodypop?"  
  
Soda groaned at the old nickname he'd grown to hate over the years.  
  
"Yes Stevie?" His voice was sickeningly sweet, like sugar had been coated throughout his tongue.  
  
"We going right or left?"  
  
"Left."  
  
The planes got closer and closer, for the game of chicken consisted of these rules: Two planes would fly straight at each other, and then each pilot would pull away and fly in the same direction as the other, narrowly missing each plane but flying with glory.  
  
"Can't hear you--we'll go left right?"  
  
"Uh...left right as in we're going left or going right?"  
  
"Soda?"  
  
"Uh...go right."  
  
The planes broke threw the clouds and were now in sight of each other.  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Soda!"  
  
Closer and closer....  
  
"We go right! Righty tighty!"  
  
The pilots watched in awe, as the P-40's got so close they couldn't possibly get out of each other's way. At the last instant, both planes snapped a quarter turn so that their wings were vertical, and they shot past each other belly to belly.  
  
Zoooooooooooom!  
  
They looped passed each other with slight hesitation but mostly excitement. The pilots on the ground below whistle and whooped in the air, congratulating each other and earning stern glances from their commanding officers. Major Stebbins glared up at the air,  
  
"You know what they say... You can take the crop duster out of the country - but don't put him in a P-40."  
  
A huge grin broke onto Soda's boyish face, knowing his superior was probably right, but there was nothing he could about it.  
  
"Wooooooooo! Now THAT is flying!"  
  
Soda banked to land as Steve tucked in behind him, having Soda's plane in his sights. Steve beamed, and muttered into the intercom,  
  
"If I had guns I'd be chewing up your..."  
  
Suddenly Soda feinted left and banked right, appearing just behind Steve.  
  
"No, if you had guns you'd be pissin' on 'em."  
  
The two boys were almost to the landing strip, Soda behind Steve. But as Steve's wheels were about to touch, he gunned his engine and snapped the nose of his plane straight up. The other pilots stopped laughing.  
  
Tim Shepard, a tall greaser with black curly hair and dark blue eyes (also from relatively the same neighborhood as the boys) spoke up, bubbling with excitement, "He's doing an inside loop!"  
  
Major Stebbins groaned, "Aw, shit......"  
  
Steve pulled it off, just barely making a full circle to come in behind Soda and bounced to a stop on the runway.  
  
"Yee-hawww!!!" cried Steve, as though nothing in the world could stop him now---and nothing was gonna.  
  
Steve taxied his plane over to join the others. He grinned as he slid back his cockpit cover; then asked, "Where's Soda?"  
  
Curly Shepard, who looked just like a younger version of his brother, tipped his chin toward the air. Seeing Soda's plane still in the air, Steve started to refasten his harness.  
  
The major glared at him, "You're down, Randal! That's an order!"  
  
Steve frowned and motioned towards the sky where Soda still flew in between the clouds, "What about him?"  
  
Stebbins sighed, "He's not taking my orders anymore."  
  
Steve was just about to ask what the hell that meant, when he noticed Soda climbing in a deliberate spiral. Steve breathed hard in a sense of wonderment, awe, and fear. "He's gonna do it."  
  
"Do what?" asked Curly.  
  
Steve only whispered the last word  
  
"It. Aw, shit. Aw shit shit shit..."  
  
Soda's plane had just reached two thousand feet, just a speck above them, and seemed to pause in the air.  
  
Steve swore.  
  
"I shouldn't'a done an inside loop. I shouldn't'a done an inside loop."  
  
Tim looked up. "Why?"  
  
Steve's eyes were bulging. "Cause now he's gonna do an outside loop."  
  
Major Stebbins looked as though his dog was dying. "Aw shit. Aw shit shit shit......"  
  
Steve and Tim joined in, like an involuntary chant: "Aw shit shit shit......"  
  
Soda, in the cockpit, became tightly controlled, yet serene. He nosed the plane into a power dive. The P-40 screamed toward the ground, picking up speed, going so fast it began to shudder. The other pilots were transfixed. Curly was so nervous he couldn't get the words out, and all that could be heard was "Aw sh- sh- sh- sh-"  
  
Tin helped his brother out, "Shit."  
  
"Yeah." He replied breathlessly.  
  
Steve rung his hands through his hair nervously, "You can do it, Soda. You can do it."  
  
The P-40, hurtled toward the ground at nauseating speed, snapped into a half roll, streaked upside down over the runway. Soda hung inverted in his flight harness, the asphalt of the runway shooting past, ten feet beyond his head. He pushed the plane into a climb, his cockpit on the outside of the circle. The plane reached the top of its arc, and almost stalled; but Soda nosed it over again, toward the earth, only this time he had very little altitude.  
  
The plane hurtled down, still with its belly on the inside of the curve... it made it full circle. Soda's head was now barely a foot off the asphalt as the plane shot past, still inverted. It seemed as though the whole ground below him burst into cheers, as Soda himself permitted himself a smile. He landed, and the guys ran out to meet him...all except for the Stebbins, who stood there shaking his head.  
  
Steve jumped on the wing, as Soda stopped and slid back his canopy. Steve grabbed him by the harness and shook him fiercely.  
  
"You stupid bastard, you could've killed yourself!"  
  
But a second later he was hugging his best friend of nearly two decades, and grinning like a madman, muttered, "That was the most beautiful thing I ever saw. And by looks of the nurses 'round here that saying a lot."  
  
Soda returned the smile, his whole face shinning brilliantly in the morning light.  
  
"Land of the free..."  
  
"...Home of the brave."  
  
* "Zero to jackass in 3.2 seconds."-That's from Gilmore Girls. Dude, that was so friggin' long! Oh well, I'm pretty happy with it, even though I probably put down too much technical stuff. Too bad for you! Hahahhahahahah!!! K, I have a question, should Soda and Steve lust after the same girl, or should we get Steve his own girl? You decide. 


	6. Nurses and Pilots

INT. NEW YORK AIRFIELD -  
  
Never was there such a commotion the barracks as when they boys had planned a night out on the town. The pilots were getting slicked up and greased up, admiring their features and so on. Tim was currently dosing himself in a rather large bottle of cologne, causing a few of the nearby men to cough.  
  
Steve was at the mirrors with the others, putting on his own, (and less noticeable) scent, all the while looking terrific in his uniform. He sauntered over to his nightstand and pulled out a drawer that held things more precious than gold in his eyes. They were medals---Steve always appreciated getting them; he felt them, he knew what they meant. All the effort and hard working discipline it took to be on top. He was an admirable man.  
  
Anthony and Curly were combing their hair at the sinks, the Italian making his hair as shiny as possible, while the former resident of Okalahoma greased the jet-black hair that he felt was the bane of existence. Curly dropped the comb and declared to his image in the mirror: "You good- looking' son of a bitch...don't you EVER die!"  
  
Anthony smirked slyly, "That's your line for tonight, ya know."  
  
Curly looked perplexed, "What, good-looking' son of a bitch? I doubt the ladies would like that..."  
  
Anthony rolled his eyes, "No, numbnuts, die. You get your nurse alone, you look her in the eye, and say, 'Baby, they're training me for war, and I don't know what'll happen. But if I die tomorrow, I wanna know that we lived all we could tonight.' I've never known it to fail."  
  
Tim finished brushing his teeth at the sink beside them. "He's never known it to work, either."  
  
The guys headed out laughing, also running into Soda who was coming in, already in full uniform and looking spiffy, especially due to the fact that he'd just a meeting with Major Stebbins, causing him to look slightly flushed.  
  
With a flick of his wrist Billy smacked down his comb onto the edge of the sink, and smiled with glee, "Nurses! Nurses! Nurses! Hey, Soda's here, let's get this show on the road!"  
  
Steve came out of the bathroom, a lopsided grin on his face. "So the colonel didn't kill you, huh? Attaboy!" he exclaimed, patting his friend on the back.  
  
But Soda looked less than enthusiastic. "Stevie, there's somethin' I gotta tell you..."  
  
~Back On The Train~~~~~~~~~  
  
Amber sat listening in amusement to Heaven and Angel. The ride was almost coming to a stop but none of the women even noticed.  
  
Heaven sighed, re-adjusting her shirt for the one-millionth time. "Do you have trouble with your boobs in the uniform?"  
  
Angel snickered, "You mean hiding them?"  
  
"Hide them? On a date with pilots? I'm talking about how you make 'em show!"  
  
"Loan 'em to me, I'll make 'em show." Replied her sister.  
  
Amber gave a bit of chuckle as Heaven exclaimed, "The boobs or the pilots?"  
  
With a loud screech the train came to a halt and the girls grew chattier than ever, wandering towards the exit with a bustle. Clouds of steam jetted onto the platform, giving the moment a dream-like haze. Amber hopped off the train, looking for a familiar face in the mass of nurses, marines, pilots and seamen, along with all the rest of society that didn't hold a place in the army. And then...there he was.  
  
Heaven grinned as she saw the man her friend was staring at. "I take it that one's off-limits?"  
  
"Yep, but I'll introduce you anyway. Just stick with me, I'll find you somebody good."  
  
Lt. Soda Curtis stood in front a small group of perhaps ten men, all of whom were looking quite strapping in their khaki pants and brown leather jackets. Soda took the first step, clearly holding something behind his back. Soon enough the two were face to face, Soda looking down upon his beautiful girl, who, in his mind, was radiating the moonlight by storm. Suddenly his arms were wrapped around her waist and he pulled off the ground into a spiral embrace, turn around in circles and loving her girlish giggle. Amber smiled coyly as she saw him pull out a single red rose from behind his back and hand it over to her.  
  
"It's good to see you Lt." She grinned.  
  
"Likewise Lt."  
  
"Ahem," the slight cough/warning of Heaven brought the two lovebirds back to reality. Amber smiled, "Oh, Soda, this is Heaven."  
  
"Nice to meet you Heaven. That's a nice name."  
  
The young girl just nodded and pried, "Do you have any friends?"  
  
Soda laughed, clicked his tongue, and tipped his head towards the side were the remaining pilots stood rather bashfully, most unusual for pilots, as they were well known for being the cockiest of the entire U.S Army.  
  
"Take your pick."  
  
Angel had already headed over to the boys, picking out Tim, her boyfriend of forever and a day.  
  
"Ya know...I just want to tell you one thing. If you're thinking this might be your last night on earth? I'm prepared to make it meaningful."  
  
She leaned in close, "Very meaningful."  
  
Amber grinned, "At ease, Angel!"  
  
***Well, as you can see, I've changed a lot---Amber's name used to be Lorelei, but you can imagine how troublesome that is to spell every couple of sentences. Anyways, I've added new characters and gotten rid of old ones. So yeah, I think that's all I wanted to say. Please review! 


End file.
